⛌ bluff ⛌

[SHIVERS]

FILL OUT ALL FIELDS

NAME:
PRONOUNS:
OCCUPATION (IF ANY):
REASON FOR TRAVEL/STAY:

CABIN SELECTION:
 1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12
(crossed out numbers are unavailable)

[skinstealer]

NAME: hashtag
PRONOUNS: it/its
OCCUPATION: photographer (amateur)
REASON FOR TRAVEL: finding the next big hit

cabin 3

[palencorgi]

Name: Arcana
Pronouns: xe/xir
Occupation: Gambler (part-time, cards), former Salesperson
Reason for stay: in-between destinations

Cabin 6

[Lilium Mortem]

NAME: Canalave Gausse
PRONOUNS: It/its
OCCUPATION (IF ANY): photo-journalist
REASON FOR TRAVEL/STAY: work, you know, like when your boss says "go down to this ans that place and take pictures for our publication" on short notice but you drop everything anyway because at this point in your life you've lost control of everything except where you point your camera? Yeah that.

CABIN SELECTION: 3

[AceOfNothing]

NAME: Diversion Attentionson
PRONOUNS: They/It
OCCUPATION (IF ANY): Urban Explorer, ReelWorld celeb, DJ on weekends
REASON FOR TRAVEL/STAY: Travel is part of the game. If i cant get to new places how good could I actually be at exploring. People don't want to see the same abandoned hospital every week, and I am here for my people. Besides, don't needs to be tracked down when I find good stuff 

Cabin: 3

[MarxzVulpez]

Name: Anri Swallowtail
Pronouns: it/its
Occupation (if any): photographer (landscape and wildlife), witch artifact identifier repair person and seller
Reason for Travel/Stay: Bad Breakup , Doctor Assigned (but also Much Needed) Medical Leave, avoiding Scrap Storm Season in Home location

Cabin Selection:
6

[knux400]

Name: [incomprehensible scribbling]
Pronouns: They/It
Occupation: Cabin 7
Reason for Travel/Stay: Fun

Cabin Selection: Yes

[ಠ_ಠ]

Name: [incomprehensible scribbling]
Pronouns: They/It
Occupation: Cabin 7
Reason for Travel/Stay: Fun

Cabin Selection: Yes

Seconding this.

[SHIVERS]

NAME: Arcana
PRONOUNS: it/its
OCCUPATION (IF ANY): Photographer





You stare at the second-to-last field on the form.

















Your thumb slides against the opposite end of the pen, over and over;
applying pressure but never quite clicking it.

















REASON FOR TRAVEL/STAY: fun



You circle the first available cabin and hastily slide the form over to the receptionist.



She doesn't take it.



The old dog's staring at you when you look up.
Her cigarette quietly fizzles. It smells like nothing.





You adjust your glasses and clear your throat.



"...You a pockitt?" She asks you.

Your mouth opens, wordlessly at first.

"Um... amerveille.
I get that a lot, though,
since they both have kangaroo morphs, it makes sen--"
"Got any weird body features, anything like that?"

"...ha.
Uh.

 . . .

...why?"
"'Cause if you get hurt I need to know I'm not gonna kill you.
I'm the closest thing to a doctor in about five miles."


"OH.
NO, I'M-
I mean I have regular... organ structure and all that, as far as I know.
I can just tattoo myself a lot easier than most people, that's about it."



She finally takes the form,
reading it in a microsecond before turning around and retrieving a key from the wall behind her,
along with what looks like a pamphlet.









The ruffneck puts both on the counter and unfolds the pamphlet,
which turns out to be a map.


 

"You're in cabin 3, right here." She points to it.
"That means that you and cabin 4 will share a restroom inside.
So, the restroom has two doors. Lock BOTH while you're in the restroom, unlock both when you're done;
don't hog it and DON'T go through to the other cabin. I don't make enough money to deal with people who try that.
Okay?"
"Yes ma'am."

"If there's an emergency, you come here or to the bar.
There's no cell service out here, and me and Bo's have the only working phones."

She points to the phone nearby on the wall.

"Calls here are five minutes max, one call a day unless it's an emergency.
No exceptions.
If someone's not bleeding and not dying, it's probably not an emergency.
And if you're using the phone here, you need to clear it with me first.



The front desk here's open from 8AM to 8PM, same as the Gimme across the street.
Arcade's open 2PM to 8PM, and the bar's open Noon to Midnight.
The museum and the pool are open 24 hours, just don't leave a mess."



She folds up the map and hands it over.
You shove it in your pocket.

The old woman glances over at the clock, then reaches under the counter.
"I give out coupons and other things for the businesses across the street every morning.
I just drop 'em into the mailbox on your door.
You got here late in the afternoon, so you don't get much today."

A ticket and a coupon are placed next to the key in front of you.

"Coupon's for a free dinner at the bar.
Only a few menu options for the free one so take what you get.
And then, the museum--"







She pauses, mentally preparing.



Her voice rolls out of her muzzle in monotone, not a shred of enthusiasm present.



"The Whipsaw Oddity Museum is an unknowable and compelling adventure that's fun for the whole family.
Delve into truths you've never dream-
...dreamt of.

Fantastical.
Mystical.
Supernatural.

What kind of mysteries
will you discover.

Come in anytime. Any day.
Every day.
Fresh oddities are rotated in every 24 hours, so be sure to use your free ticket every day.
And don't forget the gift shop. Show your support for small businesses."



She takes a drag from her cigarette, her head turning as she blows smoke to the side.
It still smells like nothing.



" . . .

...Good to know."



She slides the coupons over to you.
You pocket them.

"Checkout for you is next Sunday no later than 10AM.
...Questions?"

You would very much like to leave.

"No ma'am."
"What's your name?"
"Oh, I. Put it on the card--" "It's all chicken scratch.
Can't read it."
"...ha ha.
Sorry about that.
It's um-
My handwriting's, always-
Name-
Name is Arcana."

She writes something down on a nearby sticky note before peeling it off.











Finally, at long last, she places the key in your paw.
Bronze-colored, with a plastic '3'-shaped keychain attached.

"Thanks for staying at Whipsaw Cabins."

You're already halfway out the door.

"Yep, thank you ma'am."










 

▶ Kinder
Disasterpeace

The swing door slides slowly shut behind you.


Your shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath,
eyes closed.
Your camera swings lightly around your neck from the motion.



god, that was embarrassing

Your paw rubs your cheek.



way too tired after that drive
really need to get in the cabin already










As you turn,
you spot lush, blue mountains off to the north.









The car ride over had been southbound, preventing you from taking in the view.












The afternoon sun hangs low on the horizon.











Forested hills splay out in curves, like waves.















You breathe deep of the living mountain air.


















The perfect place to clear your head.












You raise your camera and focus it, snapping a low effort picture.

The shutter clicks.











It's better than not remembering the moment at all.

























As you lower your arms, you have to catch your bag as it does its best to slip from your shoulder.




okay, View Over
time to get in and pass out











The map is unneeded as you walk the short distance towards the nearby cabins.
They're all numbered, easy enough to find yours.



The space between the two sets of cabins perfectly frames the mountains in the distance,
pausing you as you're fishing for the new key in your pocket.





one more











You raise your camera.







Focus in.







Try to line it all up juuuuuuuuuust right

aiming for symmetry.











Just as your claw nears the shutter button,

a door opens-







A coffee-colored raccoon - likely a masque - in a black sweater
invades the frame,

stepping out of cabin 4

the one conjoined with yours.






Their attention immediately focuses on you
as you aim, technically, at Them with your camera.



fuck




You drop it to your neck in an instant.






"Sorry, haha-
Was,
trying to..."


Their steps resume, taking a quick right turn to disappear behind their cabin,
shooting you a disconcerted look in the process.








You stand, processing the moment.


Stellar.

bedtime




With no further delays, you forget about the picture and find your way into your cabin.
















Inside is

Wood paneling.
Carpet.
Wooden desk. Wood floor.
Wood wood wood.

You don't care to take it in right now.






You haphazardly spread out some of your things,
finding your way out of your jeans and into your pajama pants before dragging your body under the covers of the bed.


You try not to think as the world fades.







































 

⛌ NIGHT ONE ⛌

You awaken feeling clammy, with a stiff neck.

Effort is immediately required from you.
You uncomfortably unfurl yourself from the chaotic pretzel knot your unconscious body had formed between you and the blankets.

Your glasses are lost somewhere in the sheets, taking a bit of digging to retrieve and place back on your face.


You rise,
rubbing sleep from your face.




"...time's it...?" You mutter.

An alarm clock by your bed reads

10:16 PM



"...mm."





Your feet touch the floor as you properly get up.






now what?



It's late, but you're wide awake now.

May as well find a way to pass the time.

















You glance around the room.


You had, somehow, managed to successfully place your laptop on the desk in your exhausted state.
It'd be easy to plug it in and turn it on, but without internet or any sort of signal, there isn't much you can do with it.
You can plug in your camera and look at pictures on it, and you might have a game or two installed by default.
None of that sounds that appealing at the moment, though, unless you find yourself desperately bored.

Your shared restroom doesn't look like it's being used.
Maybe you could relax with a shower?

There's a CRT television perched on a stand in front of the bed.
Easy way to pass the time, and check what the channel setup is like here.





Though, your time might be better spent exploring the area, you think.
And getting out might be nice, even if it's dark out now.



You check the time again.

10:18 PM



what did she say was open again?



right.





The bar. You do have that free meal coupon.
You'd stopped to eat not long before you got here, so you aren't all that hungry.
Still, can't beat free. And it could be worth checking out anyway.

There's also the oddity museum, whatever exactly that means.
It definitely sounds like a tourist trap, but apparently it's open 24 hours,
for
some reason?
You know it'll be underwhelming, but you're infinitely curious, and you do have a free ticket.

Lastly, the pool is open all night as well.
It's probably unmanned, you imagine, which could make it worth checking out.
You think you might've packed your swim trunks on a whim,
but you aren't sure the trunks quite... do the job alone anymore.
You'd been meaning to get a proper bathing suit to fit your chest, too, these days,
but that process alone sounded mortifying.
Still does.

You guess you could go Look at the pool, at least,
and perhaps if it's empty, your trunks and a regular shirt would work fine enough.
You do really miss swimming.





You debate your options.

Show ContentCHECK MAP:

[Lilium Mortem]

Oddity museum. It's probably garbage, but at least you won't be left wondering if you go there now, and the walk alone might  be worth it.

[knux400]

Seconding the museum. The bar is right there, so if we get hungry, we can just head over.

Plus it would be a shame for the lady at the desk to have to read out that whole scripted bit just for us to ignore the museum entirely. If anything, we're doing this out of respect for her time.

[skinstealer]

thirding the museum. this is the middle of the woods, how odd could they possibly be.

[MarxzVulpez]

I also think the Oddity Museum is the most interesting option here so far, but I feel like we should take a brief moment and boot up the laptop, back up any other pictures we may have taken today, see if there's any we want to tinker with/ sort/delete etc.

[Ignispark]

...yeah best to get your stuff in order before you start dashing into the unknown.

[SHIVERS]

First order of business:
Back up your photos.
You're glad you remembered.

It's a habit you'd fallen into after your clumsy hands had dropped your previous camera into a river;
something you still haven't forgiven yourself for,
and the reason you ALWAYS wear a camera strap now.



You stretch, finding your neck still sore.

probably going to be sore through tomorrow at least

annoying.

You ignore it, walking to your cabin's desk and shuffling into the uncomfortable wooden chair.
It doesn't take long to plug in your laptop and boot it up.

Or, it wouldn't, if your laptop worked better.

The boot sequence takes far too long, as always, and you find yourself bouncing your leg while you wait.



Eventually it loads up, and you retrieve your camera and plug it in.






Your camera's folder only shows two pictures:

One is the shot of the distant mountain you took right outside the front desk building.
The colors are nice, but it's blurry.
Not your best work.

The second picture is one you didn't realize had actually taken.
Apparently, during the awkward encounter with your cabin neighbor, you'd managed to accidentally snap a photo after all.
You can't see them in the photo.
Or the mountain.
Or the cabins.
Or much of anything save for some of your fingers, and your worn-out sneakers standing in the grass.











You rub your temple.



oh well



Frustration stings at you.

It was a long, scenic drive out here, and this is all you had to show for it.
You could've sworn you took at least a Few other pictures outside of a rest stop you'd parked at along the way.
But, no, you must've done the thing you always seem to do, where you simply Think About taking a picture of something, only to forget entirely.

You find it ironic that one of the main reasons you took an interest in photography in the first place was your memory issues.
Which, now only seem to make you Forget to Remember to take pictures so you'll Remember things.

Oh well!
ohhhhhhhhh Well



You find yourself frustrated that you're this frustrated
over something so small.
You'd love to fix this now, add some pictures to the mix so you feel like you actually do something,
but it's dark outside.



You shut your laptop.



Maybe a little bit too hard.

Your frustration switches immediately to concern.



You double-check your withered laptop to make sure it's alright.
It's old, you do need a new one, but you don't want it damaged.

It's all you've got.



After a brief inspection, it looks no more busted than usual.
You close it again and give it a quick pat.
"Sorry, bud."


















You sigh through your nostrils, moving to other matters.



The museum is worth looking into, you think.
It's the most interesting option, considering you have no idea what exactly it'll be like.

Well.
Maybe some idea. Tourist trap.
You're too curious not to give it a shot, anyway.
Tourist traps can be fun, and you've got a free ticket.

Plus, the bar's right next to it.
You can give the museum a quick look-through, and maybe by then you'll have worked up an appetite before the restaurant closes.

You throw your jeans back on, slip on your colorful windbreaker, and head out the door.






















Your footfalls slow as soon as you're outside.



The area is barely lit at all.

If the moon weren't out,
you wouldn't even be able to lock your cabin door.









You find yourself more unnerved than you should be,
thinking far too much about just how isolated you are out here.





Middle of nowhere.





Only a handful of people.




For miles.





You stop thinking and start walking.
You really should think less in general, you think.











Your footfalls sound louder than usual as you make your way around your cabin.

It's near-silent out here,
something you haven't experienced to this degree in a long time.



You reach the road.

Your neck hurts as you turn it side-to-side, double-checking.
Though, you feel like you would hear any car coming from miles away.











You cross the road.














Just as with the other side, almost nothing is lit up over here either.

The bar is instantly noticeable as there are lights on inside, and faint muffled music coming from its doors.
It's a lot bigger than you imagined;
wider than you feel is necessary for how little traffic it must attract.

The sound and light make you feel a little safer, even from outside.
You know you aren't entirely by yourself out here, at least.



A little smile graces your snout.





You reach the other buildings,
all grouped together in a tiny, messily-paved plaza of sorts.

There's a fountain in the center with sides wide enough to sit on;
about the only place out here to sit that you've seen.
It's currently off, bone-dry.

Most of the buildings don't really catch your attention,
and you don't really feel like hanging around in the dark even longer with how eerie it is out here.

Though, you do hear what sound like faint voices inside the pool building.
Two or three people having a conversation accompanied by occasional splashing, as best as you can tell.
You don't want to pry,
you're just relieved to hear more people, even if you're surprised anyone else is out this late.





More confident than before, you approach the museum.

It's worse than you expected.
The building looks more like a two-story, wooden shack than a proper building, with a tin roof on top.
It doesn't even have windows.
It hardly looks like it should be standing up at all.

It's the only building with a light outside the door, though,
even if it's only a yellow light bulb plugged into a socket just over the door. Small flying bugs are twirling around it.

A simple wooden sign on the outer wall labels the building as the oddity museum,
along with promising it's open 'all day, any day!'





You find yourself more curious than ever, unable to wait any longer.

You grab the door's handle and swing it open, stepping--




You gasp as your foot nearly slips.


























Inside the door




is a long, concrete staircase,
only lit by numerous dim light bulbs plugged in along its walls.





It leads down


and down




and down










much farther than you ever would've imagined for a place like this.




Looking down into it makes your balance unsteady.








You can see a light at the bottom.

















what



Your muzzle is hanging open, paw still on the handle as you stare into it.
You don't know what the hell you were expecting.

It wasn't this.













You think about it too long.

What could possess someone to build this.
How they'd even get the money for it, in the middle of nowhere.
What the shack part of this even is if the front door doesn't lead to it.
Why anyone could
Maybe it's a converted underground shelter?
Still, why would it be out Here of all places?
Why would it be so deep?





The fur on the back of your neck bristles.







Yet
at the same time





you want to see.

You have to see, now.




You know you'll never be able to Stop thinking about it tonight
wondering what's down there


unless you go Now.











You listen, for a few more moments, to the sounds of people nearby.

The faint voices in the pool building just nearby.
The muffled music from the bar.






youre okay.

This place is
Weird
very
very very, very weird

but its fine
its an Oddity museum
of course its weird







stop worrying
stop Thinking

i have to know









A deep breath.











You step inside,
allowing the shack door to shut behind you.





You grip the handrail tight

and begin your descent.




















You try to count the steps on the way down.







Before long, you lose count.

















How far down is this?





Three stories?



Five?







The bottom is maybe about


four stories down, total,

maybe.













You're almost to it.



















Your knees are starting to hurt.

You remember how much you hate stairs.



















You dread going back up.

















Your eyes burn as you reach the bottom step.
It's too bright.
You squint, helping them adjust.




When they do, you





try

to process the room.









 

▶ Forget-Me-Not
Nolan Brewer

The room is expansive
or at least, it feels that way.



The floor
the walls
the ceiling

are all bright white, with no visible seams anywhere.
You can't even tell what material they're made out of, they have almost no visible texture to them.

Expansive. Empty.





Speakers up in the corners by the ceiling are playing some kind of music.

It makes you uncomfortable.
You can't articulate why.

You swear you can almost hear a voice in it, sometimes.









There are no lights, you realize.





This room is
lit up in pure, near-blinding white,


with no visible source.

















Maybe





Maybe the



walls and floor and all that are




glowing?














Maybe they-


You don't know.
You don't want to think about it.








In the center of the room stands a pillar - just as white as the rest of the room - that extends from floor to ceiling.

There's text on it.





 

TONIGHT'S EXHIBITS


ODDITIES OF FILM & TELEVISION
← ← ← Ground Floor - Red Hallway

ODDITIES OF WEAPONRY
→ → → Basement - Yellow Stairs

ODDITIES OF COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY
↑   ↑   ↑ Upper Floor - Green Ramp

You glance in each listed direction, spotting:

The red hallway to your left.

The yellow stairs leading down to your right.

And you peer around the pillar, finding the green ramp leading upward.





easy enough


just
pick an exhibit.





















or-

Part of you wants to cut your losses and race back up the stairs to the entrance.



You could come back tomorrow, couldn't you?



Maybe with
someone- anyone else?


Or maybe you could just talk to someone about it?



Maybe you could just drive off and not come back-


You wring a shaky breath out of yourself.







calm down


why is my heart pounding?
im here

i want to know




itll probably feel more normal the longer im here






You assess the situation.

[skinstealer]

take the green ramp.

hey, maybe you'll find something nice to fix your laptop!

[knux400]

Wait a second. We went down four or five stories' worth of stairs presumably leading deep underground, and the hallway to our left is the ground floor? Someone needs to give the signwriter here a dictionary.

That said, we're already feeling a little unnerved, so I'd vote against Oddities of Weaponry for now. Oddities of Film & TV and Oddities of Computer Technology both sound fun, though!

Between the two, I'd say Film & TV, just to see what these people's wacky definition of a ""ground floor"" is.

Also, regarding the light in this room- check around where the pillar meets the ceiling/floor and around your own body and look for shadows. If you can find shadows, you can point yourself in the direction of the light source in here. You could also use your windbreaker or your hands to create dark spaces and determine the direction of the light that way.

[Lilium Mortem]

Green, laugh at some creepypastas or just check out weird junk, whatever it is it'll probably be less... Haunting, with the strange atmosphere of this place.

Also why isn't anyone there to take your ticket? or hell, even a turnstile? I could get if they just didn't care, but there should at least be an empty desk or something, right?

[ಠ_ಠ]

You're a photographer, take a look at old film stuff!

[palencorgi]

Green. Computers and technology sounds... like it'd be unusual, given this isn't exactly a tech hub of the world. Film and Tv would be a fun followup.

[SHIVERS]

▶ Forget-Me-Not
Nolan Brewer

No one took your ticket, you realize.

No front desk, not even a turnstile or other automated system.
Perplexed, you fish in your pocket for the ticket.







It's gone.

You find the meal coupon for the bar,
but the ticket is nowhere to be found.






mustve

dropped it somewhere


You don't linger on the thought,
instead perplexed as the labeling of the floors.

Considering how far down you traveled,

Maybe it's only to prevent labeling every floor deep in the negatives.
That'd be pretty awkward, wouldn't it?
All labels of 'Floor -7', 'Floor -5', that kind of thing.

It's silly.





Somehow, this thought process makes you feel a tiny bit less anxious.

Imagining this building as something created with intention makes it feel more real.
There are reasons for what you've seen. People made decisions.







You use this to steady yourself.
A proper deep breath this time.



okay

im good
mostly good


feeling better with time
just like i thought

nothing to worry about
nothing Much











There's one more thing you want to investigate.

Finding answers to the lighting mystery.
That'd help you feel better, too, you imagine.





You check the bottom and top of the pillar, where it meets the floor and ceiling.

Surely there should be shadows there.







Nothing.

no dice





hmmmm






You slip off your windbreaker and wield with both paws.

With a grunt, you sit down on the floor.



You drape the jacket over your head and stretch it out flat with your paws, as if you were using it as a makeshift umbrella.

With that done, you bend your back to sink lower, looking for shadows on the floor.


It's still as brightly lit as ever.



how?


what




You do your best to shift even lower, struggling, but-



Wait.








THERE





You spot it.

The faintest hint of a shadow when you crane your neck downward and look back;
behind you, in the vague shape of the side of your torso.



so it must be
the pillar! its coming from the pillar itself


of COURSE thats what it is!
ive only been standing between the pillar and the stairs i came from
which are Very Dark
so i wouldnt spot my shadow behind me

god i got SO WORRIED over Nothing
stupid... oh well


You find yourself excited at the discovery.
Your neck hurts when you return it back to its natural position.

But it was worth it.






You slide your windbreaker back on,
and strain your aching knees as you stand back up.


just a really, Really weird place
but it makes sense! i can make sense of it

time to confirm the theory





You stretch first, feeling almost smug,
but relieved more than anything.


You wonder what material the pillar is made of as you begin to circle around it.




You turn your head to the side, looking at the walls,
looking for your-





















You stop.


Your shadow isn't there.





No matter where you walk around the pillar,
how close or far you are to it,
your can't find your shadow.





hang on
no-

then what did i see before?











You walk to one of the outer walls, getting close to it.

You hold your arms and paws up, covering your face,
only looking through the thin gaps between your claws-


THERE IT IS!

With your limited vision in this position, you can see the shadows of your arms.



so it Is coming from the direction of the pillar?
then why did-

i can check if i just--


You swivel, keeping your arms up,
ready to see the-




















The shadow of your arms




moves with you as you turn



as if there were a flashlight right behind them.











You stop moving.












With a shaky paw,
you pull the side of your jacket up



covering over half of your face with it
looking out only from your left eye

its vision partially obscured as well.














You observe









a large shadow






in the shape of the side of your jacket






covering most of the right side of the room that you can see.





















You bring your paws up



lightly covering your face again


looking through your fingers.





Paw-shaped shadows appear along the walls
or floor
or ceiling


depending on where you turn.
















As if












as if the light source




were coming from your own head.
































Dread creeps in.



Your stomach hurts.




The room suddenly feels crushingly empty,
and far too large,
like a wide, open field.

Your neck is throbbing, feeling worse than when you got out of bed.














didnt help
did Not help

just pick one and Go already
i need out of this room










You hurriedly glance at the options.


No to weapons.

Out of film or computers-
You think of your laptop and speed-walk to the green ramp.





computers are interesting
fun

itll be fun ill feel better


You feel paranoid.


Your legs move faster

















At the top of the ramp is a doorway.

You step through into a relatively small room.



It's briefly almost as bright as the previous one -
no visible source, once again -
but you watch it dim before your eyes, settling to something more 'comfortable'.

if Anything in this godforsaken place could be called that





You don't test the source of the light again.

You don't think about it.






This room is carpeted; thick, with a dark, almost brown green hue.
The walls and ceiling are a more forest-y tint of green, with visible texturing, splotchy texturing. It'd been painted.

The detail doesn't make you feel better at all.

















Just as with the previous room, there seem to be three paths to take in cardinal directions,
each obscured with a floor-to-ceiling black curtain.






Each path has a simple silver placard on the wall, as one would see in an art gallery.

You walk around the room, reading each.








The left placard:

LJ Attention C07 Radio-computer with Oscilloscope Display

Computer system used for engineering and especially telecommunications purposes. C07 model created to sweep and track
for radio signals, and display them when located. Additionally, as with all C-Line LJ Attention Radio-computers, can be utilized
to troubleshoot malfunctioning electronics.
Unit reportedly discovers and plays back radio signals unable to be detected by other equipment. Attempts to track these
radio signals allegedly resulted in various physical ailments, some of which resulted in hospitalization.
Located on a public beach along the southern Eva Sierra coastline.





The placard opposite the ramp:

TOLA-4 Personal Computer with Data Cassette Reader Attachment

Computer system previously used in businesses and as a home computer, though the model is now considered outdated.
Cassette Reader Attachment used to read and write cassettes, allowing easy loading and saving of computer data. Widely
used only for a small span of time before being superseded by "floppy" diskettes.
Instances of unit disappearing have been reported. Extensive search is always unable to locate the unit, only for it to return
to where it had been previously, hours, days, or even weeks after disappearance. Further investigations allegedly described
disappearances of individuals, memory alteration, and amnesia.
Acquired from repossession auction lot in Hoopla, Taverne.





The right placard:

Pentafield 225 Custom Analytic Computer

Computer system normally used in conjunction with medical and survey equipment. Custom modified with various
attachments, including an RF meter, Geiger counter, and video security recording device of unknown make and model; likely
custom built.
Reports indicate that video feed displays objects and phenomena unseen by the naked eye. Long exposure to video feed
allegedly causes hallucinations, anxiety, and other unwanted symptoms.
View video feed with caution.
Located in abandoned church in Elegy, Idyth.










You can't properly draw up much curiosity.
Your body is quickened, primed to bolt for the exit.

You're shaking.



You'd like to look at one or two and then leave.

[Lilium Mortem]

Left, and if you have the time, right. Or you could just leave. No one is forcing you to look at displays in the magically lit underground museum.

[skinstealer]

show me the cassette computer...i'm so curious!

[palencorgi]

I'd second left/right. Both seem to be good at tracking unseen things... that's always interesting .

[knux400]

Take a quick peek at the TOLA-4 to see if it's even there at the moment, then check out the LJ Attention C07. It's... probably best to avoid the one that causes anxiety.

[Guest]

Nah fuck it do all three. 
You may never get a chance like this again.

[MarxzVulpez]

C07 and TOLA 4 sound like the best to check out. You could also check out the third one if the TOLA has decided to take a hike for the time being...

[SHIVERS]

You can make this quick.


Check out the TOLA-4 - if it's there, if it even supposedly disappears -
then the C07. That one seems safest.
You don't really want to mess with the 225.


You walk to the center curtain and part it,
moving inside.
















The room within is
relatively normal.

Still the same green walls and carpet,
still the same sourceless light;
but it's only the computer system, sitting on a desk across from the curtain.


You walk over to get a better look.







It's-


oh
i recognize this
i think

looks really similar to one of the first computers i ever used
didnt know it was called a TOLA

The computer itself is a dark grey box - about a foot and a half wide and maybe four or five inches tall, you estimate - with a keyboard protruding from the front of it.
The TOLA is currently connected to an old, but nicely kept CRT monitor; grey with dark brown wood paneling on the sides.
The monitor has two knobs and a speaker on its front, along with a few plastic dials underneath them.
Another cord leads next to the keyboard, where the aforementioned cassette reader has been placed, along with what looks to be an example cassette to test out.

You pull the nearby office chair over and seat yourself at the desk.







Curiously, you reach up and turn the power knob on the monitor.

It crackles to life,
eventually lighting up with static.
You hear the faintest electronic hum coming from the CRT.









Your shoulders relax against the tall back of the chair.




Feeling somewhat calmer,
you find the computer's power switch on the side of the box.

It kicks on.







 

▶ Logo Rhythmic IV
Reginald J. Lewis

The black screen turns to dark green,
while a bright green square seems to drift around the screen in a spiral pattern, drawing a blocky line with various sparkly effects in a simplistic animation.

When it finishes, the letters for TOLA appear, one in each corner of the screen around the spiral.
It holds for a couple of seconds, then the entire screen fades to bright green.

Dark green text appears along with a blinking cursor.









TOLA4 . . . . . . . . OK.
INPUT . . . . . . . . OK.
DISPLAY . . . . . . . OK.
CST_RDR . . . . . . . OK.
ADDTL . . . . . . . NONE.


INSERT CASSETTE.







You reach over and pick up the cassette next to the reader.

It's white, with a blue label that's fairly worn.
Most of the label's fields aren't filled in, though someone's written on the two lines for 'Title'.




ARC-DRIVE RELAY
1183 1141 8514




huh.
maybe its a game?
i remember that one back in the day had a couple
the mansion one was pretty fun




Feeling a little excited for the first time you step foot in this place,
you open the cassette reader and pop it in.












The computer seems to detect the cassette;
a new line of text appears.


LOAD CASSETTE? Y/N




You tap the 'Y' key on the keyboard,
then hit 'ENTER.'


















LOADING DATA . . .













Various buzzing noises emit from the monitor's speaker.
It's a little bit loud, but otherwise not a big deal.


You reach out for the volume knob to turn it down.












Your hand doesn't make it.











 

▶ Stretch Marks
Siarate

Your head pounds.
Your vision tilts.

The screen suddenly seems far away.

You feel pins and needles along your ears
moving downwards.
















Something







is Wrong











You scoot the chair away from the table.



It takes far too long to stand up.








Your body feels sluggish.
You use the desk for support.



You turn around, walking towards-












The curtain is gone.













You're standing in an open field, at night.


Trees border the field, though they're distant.






Wind sifts through the grass.










There is no other sound.
There is no moon in the sky.














You turn back around.

The TOLA is still there.




You barely manage to sit.
















Around you, there are walls again,
but there is no curtain behind you.


You see through a window ahead of you - a few cubicles and computers.






You recognize this place.







There's no time to process.







You try to turn the TOLA off.
The switch does not move.

You grab and pull at its cords.
Your muscles don't respond as they should.

You try to stop the cassette reader.
To open it.
To break it.
Anything.
You can't muster up the strength.

You pull frantically at the computer.
Trying to throw it to the floor.
It doesn't budge.









Your fingers are numb.









You can't move your mouth.















Something red drips onto the desk.

You look down and reach up,

checking.















Blood runs from your muzzle.

It stains your hand.







A wheeze trails from your throat.






Your neck is  bur ni n  g.

















But the rest of you feels





hardly there at all.












It's hard to see.

It's hard to think.








It doesn't feel like you're breathing anymore.






























An idle thought drifts lazily to the murky surface

how you'd like to sleep.


















A light suddenly shines from behind you.

You turn the chair with nearly-numb paws.











 

▶ Late Night TV

There's a television behind you, in the corner.
It looks towards you.



Playing some show or another.
You can't tell.
You can barely hear it.





You don't really feel here.













You know where you are.





This is your bedroom.

From a
long
time ago.
















Your legs are made of lead



but you force yourself to stand





to take a few wavering steps towards the TV.














You focus, when you're close.

Trying to see what show is on










as if
maybe that could help you







somehow



you think.


























Something

dark
and fuzzy

pushes forward into your vision.




It tips over in front of you
and THUMPS onto the floor in front of you.




The room looks a little brighter, now.


















You look down, to see what fell.


































































 

▶ Facing Responsibility
Siarate

Your own head   lays on the floor between your feet.








Blood pools from its mouth
and the stump where its neck had been.

Your glasses rest a few inches nearby, bent from the fall.



There's still some motion left.
Its muzzle opens and closes a microscopic amount.
Its cheek twitches.






Its eyes are wide open



but you can tell just by looking

that it's dead.

















The rest of your still-standing body


looks to be rotting.

















You're missing some of your fingers.













You hadn't noticed.


























It













all















feels






















numb































The room rotates

vertically.





You realize only after
that you fell.







Your shoulder had banged into the desk,
tilting it.

















Your view,
pointed up at the ceiling,
watches

as things begin to fall from the desk.
















The reader










the cassette









the keyboard and computer itself-


You don't see where they fall.




































The monitor slides to the edge.

























You watch as it tilts.











It's still on.








It's still loading.























Its screen faces you.
















You feel your train of thought recede,

washing out like a tide.

























The monitor




slips
















You stare in


as it plummets




onto
































































































































You can see again.








You don't remember opening your eyes, but you're awake now,
staring at the ceiling.

The room is dark, and it's spinning a little.
There's a dim blue light coming from

Somewhere - you aren't investigating again, you couldn't care less.













You feel
out-of-it.



Your memory's fuzzy, though that doesn't really surprise you.



You remember looking in on the TOLA,
messing around with the cassette reader.

After that,






nothing.










You must've

passed out?
Were you really that anxious?









You feel stupid.




At least your neck doesn't hurt anymore.





You sit up,
then stand.








You feel pretty heavy, especially your head.
Nothing quite moves right, and you're still feel dazed.
Even your vision's a little blurry.


makes sense if i passed out
REALLY hope no one saw me





oh well

i want out of here already














You find the black curtain in the dark and part it,
stepping through.














This room is different than the one you came through before.
You swear it is.



It's smaller, and there doesn't seem to be much in here at all:

Only a red door labeled 'EXIT',
and something rectangular hanging on the adjacent wall.



You walk towards the exit,
turning your head to check the other-





















It's


a mirror.





Inside it stands
something unfamiliar.








You see
your jacket, your jeans, your sneakers

on-








You take a step closer.





-being worn by
someone wearing an old CRT for a head, with a bright blue screen.
The monitor's grey.
Wood paneling on the sides. Knobs on the front.



why would-


































The memories of the cassette loading rush back to you.


You feel woozy.








You look down.

You see curved, grey, segmented claws of hard plastic,
moving and stretching as you will them to.


You reach your
plastic claw
up.







The plastic claws knock against the screen.
It hurts a little.


Your  screen.
Your  head.








You run your claws against the sides of the monitor

You can feel them
running across your head.




You

grasp the sides of the monitor,


in a desperate attempt,



trying to pull it off.






It hurts when you try.









You let go.
























You stare

into the mirror.


You spot text on your screen.










DATA LOADED.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
DRIVE "ARC:" INITIALIZED.




ARC:\


There's a blinking cursor at the end of the text.




























You'll






wake up, soon.

You're sure you will.







You have to.
















You walk as briskly as you can to the exit.

All your movement feels wrong.
Nothing is quite weighted in the right way anymore.
The dizziness hasn't worn off, either, but you fight through it.








You're soon through the door into a white hallway.

There's another exit door at the far end,
this one with a push bar instead of a door knob.






You hurry towards it.


Your pace is slow and off-kilter, but you're nearly there.









An open elevator shaft to your left catches your eye.


You can see the cables.

It's only blocked by a padlocked gate.




As you realize the cables are moving,
the elevator itself raises up into view - open on the inside.








A short, raspberry-colored rabbit - a pockitt, you think -
is on the other side.
You spot a plastic keychain in the shape of an '8' hanging out of their pocket.

They yelp and jump upon seeing you,
startling you in turn.

You back up to the wall,
feeling vulnerable being seen like this.
You don't know why.

"...the...
fuck... is--?"

You don't hear the rest of the sentence as the elevator rises beyond this floor.

























You don't want to think about what just happened.
That someone might've seen you like This.





This all feels real,
you feel Awake,

and you don't want to think about That, either.









You rush to the exit
and push your way through,
















stumbling-























You manage to catch yourself on something.










It's the fountain.









You look down into the water
at the TOLA-4's monitor
staring back at you.













You stand up.






















You're outside.


The museum is behind you,
looking exactly the same as when you went in before.
















You should be
much more scared than you are.

You feel like you should.





You're still scared.
Anxious.

But there's a certain haze over it.

Your emotions feel a little bit distant.
Maybe you don't have a brain anymore, you think.










The distance is almost



comforting.













You take a deep br-

You


can't breathe.






You don't breathe anymore.







But that feels
normal, somehow.





















Options.


You should probably do something about this.

It looks like the bar is still open, for the moment.
You remember one of the only phones is in there, and there's likely people, too.
Maybe you could get some help.
Though,
don't bars out in the country usually have a gun behind the counter?
Someone could - understandably - think you're... Something... and shoot you.
Or is that only saloons that have those?
Maybe you've seen too many westerns.

The pool building is just next to you.
You heard voices in it before, though you don't hear anything at all inside now.
You also aren't really sure what happens if you get wet, now.
You scoot away from the fountain, just in case.
Hopefully it doesn't rain.

The parking lot is nearby.
You could just go get your car keys from your cabin,
drive off, and never look back.
Could you even drive well like this, though?
Things don't exactly feel 'calibrated' well, at the moment.
You aren't used to this body. You're still kind of dizzy, too.

There's an orange light out by the cabins.
It's probably the campfire.
If it's lit, there might be someone over there.
Good to know, no matter what you decide to do.

You did also see someone with the key for the #8 cabin.
You could go check their cabin, see if they're home.
Maybe you could explain yourself. Maybe you could ask them questions;
they Are the ONLY person you know of who you know has been into the museum.
If that was real.
And if they're already out of the museum.
They could also: Run or Attack you on sight.
But so could anyone, when you look like this.






With any luck,
you'll wake up in a little while.

Even if it feels real.



You'll wake up.
And everything will be normal.

Show ContentCHECK MAP:

[ಠ_ಠ]

Go to the bar and call someone you know.

[Lilium Mortem]

You've just been through something deeply traumatic. Call a therapist. I mean I know it's night but there's gotta be a hotline or something for mental health crisis stuff, right?

[knux400]

Head to the bar and ask for help, but take it slow. Give yourself some time to get adjusted to the new body.

The TOLA was the one that disappears from time to time, and it comes back loaded up with memories and experiences. It's done this bodyswapping thing before, presumably, and returned to the desk intact each time. Hopefully that means it's just a temporary thing and it'll wear off eventually?

Examine yourself closely. Is there a physical keyboard on your body somewhere you can use to type commands? It may also be a mental input thing. If you had this thing when you were younger, you might remember some simple commands you could try. Or at the very least, how to access a help directory.

[MarxzVulpez]

it's kind of late but maybe we should try and find the on who checked us in: she said she's the closest thing to Medical Help for miles, maybe she could help or has answers. Reception IS closed though so maybe we could find someone who knows where she is, or if not someone else who could help so maybe the Bar is the best bet

[SHIVERS]

You think over the details you can remember about the TOLA,
trying to reassure yourself.

The placard said the computer itself would disappear,
and mentioned disappearances of people, too.
So, maybe it's done this before?

And returned every time.
This could be temporary, then.





You don't remember it saying anything about the people returning, though.



You don't want to think about what happens to you

if it decides to return to its desk
with you still inside it.




Hopefully you aren't on a time limit, here.








You shake that thought away.

Maybe
there's a way to actually Use the computer while it's


You?




You could check for a keyboard.
You reach towards your tors- No. You stop yourself.

No, you REALLY do not want to feel what 'your body' is, right now.
Everything has felt
Wrong,
physically,
since you left the museum.
Besides, you wouldn't be able to see much without removing your clothes.
And you are Not doing that out here.

You can give yourself a full examination when you're back in your cabin,
not standing outside in the middle of nowhere.







You briefly consider trying to figure out potential commands,
but remember that
whatever you consider Yourself is in here.

You don't want to screw up and delete yourself from existence.
And that sounds like something You, of all people,
would find a way to do by accident.

No Thank You.

Maybe you can try later when you're
'calmer',
whatever that might look like now.





You decide on the bar.

You can ask for help, or call for help.
















You make your way over to it, slowing your pace.

You nearly fell, before;
your head might be even more fragile than before, right now.
You'd rather not find out what happens if any part of this body cracks.

Some adjustment time could help right now, anyway.
So, you take it slow.





You reach the double-doors at the front of the bar.
There's music coming from inside.

You place your plastic claw on the handle,
and proceed to





hesitate.

You're worried about being attacked,
but, also

even just having people be
Afraid of you,
or thinking you look Strange or Off-putting like this,
or just
Staring

sounds mortifying.





No choice.

You probably don't even look like this, anyway.
It probably isn't happening.

You push your way inside.










 

▶ Future People
Alabama Shakes

A set of small bells ring quietly above the door.
Some radio station plays faintly from speakers throughout the building.

Before you manage to locate another person,
a gruff voice speaks up from behind the bar.
You freeze stiff at the sound, your back arching in a way that feels particularly alien.

"Got about 20 minutes til we close.
You want food or drink, lemme know."



The voice's owner is a rather large, orange beatfox far to the left,
wiping down the back of the bar with a rag.

They aren't really looking at you.

It's likely they only heard the door open.







You take the moment to survey the bar itself.

It's a lot bigger on the inside than you pictured.
The bar is at the far left, stretching around the corner of the restaurant.
You can see an open window into the kitchen behind it.

The restaurant takes up most of the building,
with many, many tables spanning the giant, open room.
There's a few booths in the corner opposite the bar, too.
They look comfy, and semi-private.

On the right side, tucked away,
there are a few pool tables, a dart board,
and a couple of slot machines with chairs.
The shining lights from the slots catch your attention,
so you deliberately avoid looking at them.

There's a clock ticking on the center wall  of the room.
It reads 11:37 PM.

A phone hangs on the wall
between the restaurant's tables and the games to the right side.





You debate going up to the bar and asking for help,
but,


they
haven't seen you yet.

And you feel anxious thinking about them doing so.

Your monitor head tucks slightly down against your shoulders;
an annoyingly-unconscious motion you can't seem to stop.











The phone.
You want to try the phone first.

They're bound to see you, when you use it,
but hopefully you won't look menacing making a phone call.
Surely you won't.



You step over to it, debating who to call.



You don't know very many people.

And you don't really want to bother any of them.

For all you know, this probably isn't actually happening.
You had a panic attack in a museum because you were alone,
and scared
and
something just

broke
in your brain.

Or maybe the TOLA really does cause hallucinations;
from radiation, or something like that.





Either way,
you could try calling your therapist.
Try to get your head on strai-

 . . .

Try to sort out your brain.

That sounds like a better idea.






You lift the receiver






and immediately remember that:
You don't have any phone numbers memorized.

You check your pockets.

You don't have your phone.
Or your wallet, for that matter.
You left both in your cabin.

The only thing in your pocket is the meal ticket.




You hang the receiver up,
gently bonking your head against the wall,
resting it there for a few seconds in annoyance at yourself.










Well.

New options.

You could steel yourself and ask the person manning the bar for help.
Or, at least, check if this is actually happening with another person.
You should work up a proper approach if you decide to do this, you think.

If you do talk to them,
and somehow this DOES seem to be happening,
you wonder if you should ask about the person who checked you in:
She mentioned having some medical training.
Maybe she could
help, somehow? Or check things out, at least?
You don't know.
You're grasping at straws, here.

You could also still use the phone, and call the emergency line.
But, is that a good option when you aren't Entirely Sure this is happening?
What if it isn't, and a emergency services come all the way out here for nothing?
What would you even say?
'My head is a computer.
Help?
Thanks.'
Still, it IS the only number you know off-hand.

You could also go anywhere else.
The previous options are still open to you.

The pool, the lit campfire,
checking on the person in cabin #8,
or returning to your own cabin.

Even the museum
is
still technically open.



You really don't want to go back there.
But,
you could.




There are probably more options you're forgetting, too.

Time to decide.

[knux400]

Let's... ask about the receptionist, I think. All things considered, we don't look too different from some kind of construct species, so assuming none of these people are prejudiced against mechanical beings, your appearance shouldn't be too offputting. Just don't make any sudden moves or mention destroying organic life or anything like that.

If the receptionist isn't here, our next stop should be our room to get our contact list and get familiar with our new robot body. I don't think being in the bar is a good idea considering our anxiety level and lack of familiarity with ourselves, so we shouldn't stay here any longer than we have to.

[Lilium Mortem]

Let's... ask about the receptionist, I think. All things considered, we don't look too different from some kind of construct species, so assuming none of these people are prejudiced against mechanical beings, your appearance shouldn't be too offputting. Just don't make any sudden moves or mention destroying organic life or anything like that.

If the receptionist isn't here, our next stop should be our room to get our contact list and get familiar with our new robot body. I don't think being in the bar is a good idea considering our anxiety level and lack of familiarity with ourselves, so we shouldn't stay here any longer than we have to.

Seconded

[skinstealer]

thirding...though we should consider tracking down cabin 8's resident, i want to see what the hell they were doing down there too

[SHIVERS]

Well.

Either you don't actually look like this and you're hallucinating.
In which case this should go
okay?

Or, you do look like this,
and hopefully you don't look too offputting.





It should be fine.














You wind through the tables towards the bar.



"EXCU--"






You

didn't speak.



Not out loud, anyway.
Though, a faint buzzing noise came out with every character you 'spoke.'









There's something fuzzy in your vision.


It takes a little while to focus on it.










You can see

your screen

displayed alongside your normal sight;
almost like an overlay, but something more

instinctive.





It reads:



DATA LOADED.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
DRIVE "ARC:" INITIALIZED.


ARC:\SPEECH "EXCU--"

ARC:\

There's a blinking cursor at the end of the text.







ARC:\TR_TH *FUCK*

You stop dead in your tracks.

The buzzing noise is fainter this time,
but even keeping a train of thought seems to project it onto your screen.

ARC:\TR_TH *OH GOD WHAT DO I-*
ARC:\TR_TH *SHUT UP SHUTUP SHHH DONT THINK SO MUCH*

All composure is lost.




"Come again?"




Your back arches on its own, standing at attention.




ARC:\SPEECH "SORRY!"
ARC:\SPEECH "VERY SORRY ABOUT THAT."
ARC:\SPEECH "I AM STILL GETTING USED TO THIS."
ARC:\SPEECH "HAHA  HA."
ARC:\SPEECH "ANYWAY, I AM-"
ARC:\SPEECH "NEW, HERE. COULD I ASK YOU SOME THINGS."


"Shoot."


You realize that
the bartender still isn't looking up at you.




ARC:\TR_TH *WAIT*
ARC:\TR_TH *CAN THEY HEAR ME?*
ARC:\TR_TH *CAN THEY HEAR /THIS/?*
ARC:\TR_TH *TESTING. TESTING. HAVING VOICE PROBLEMS. CAN YOU HEAR ME?*

The beatfox quietly wipes down another portion of the bar.

ARC:\SPEECH "UH."
ARC:\SPEECH "QUESTIONS. SORRY, KIND OF RATTLED RIGHT NOW."

"You're good, just ask."

ARC:\TR_TH *OKAY I'M*
ARC:\TR_TH *PROPERLY AUDIBLE WHEN I TALK, BUT NOT WHEN THINKING.*
ARC:\TR_TH *VERY VERY GOOD TO KNOW.*
ARC:\TR_TH *MAYBE THAT MEANS I DON'T ACTUALLY LOOK LIKE THIS?*
ARC:\TR_TH *I SHOULD ASK ABOUT THAT. WHAT I LOOK LIKE*
ARC:\TR_TH *WHAT'S A WAY TO DO THAT COVERTLY...?*








ARC:\SPEECH "...WOULD YOU SAY THAT I LOOK LIKE A POCKITT?"

ARC:\SPEECH "I'M NOT ONE, BUT I HAD SOMEONE EARLIER TODAY CONFUSE ME FOR ONE."
ARC:\SPEECH "PERSONALLY, I CAN'T SEE IT, BUT I'D LIKE A SECOND OPINION."
ARC:\SPEECH "I'VE JUST BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT."
ARC:\SPEECH "I KNOW SOME OF THEM ARE KANGAROOS, TOO, BUT..."
ARC:\SPEECH "SURELY THE RESEMBLANCE ISN'T THAT STRONG."
ARC:\SPEECH "WE'RE PRETTY DIFFERENT SPECIES, I'D SAY."


The beatfox glances up at you for the first time,
studying you.








Your body feels restless, filled with energy.
Practically electric.

Likely some odd form of mechanical anxiety.

You don't like it.










"...Kinda.
There's some resemblance, but your eyes are different-"

ARC:\TR_TH *I STILL HAVE EYES!!*

"-and you're taller than a lot of pockitts I've seen.
Different shapes, too.
...Plus, there's that thing around your neck."

ARC:\TR_TH *I'M NORMAL! I LOOK NOR-*


ARC:\TR_TH *WHAT*


ARC:\SPEECH " . . . "
ARC:\SPEECH "...WHAT'S IT LOOK LIKE?"

"Tattoo, maybe. Dunno."



You didn't have that before.


ARC:\SPEECH "IS IT, LIKE-"
ARC:\SPEECH "DOES IT LOOK--"

"Buddy, what is this?
You just fishin' for compliments?"

You wave your plastic claws.

ARC:\SPEECH "SORRY! SORRY."
ARC:\SPEECH "HAVING... A WEIRD NIGHT, IS ALL."
ARC:\TR_TH *HOW DO I PUT THIS*
ARC:\SPEECH "I THINK I... HIT MY HEAD, A LITTLE BIT AGO."
ARC:\SPEECH "WHEN I CHECKED IN EARLIER TODAY, THE PERSON WHO CHECKED ME IN-"

"Olive."

ARC:\SPEECH "IS THAT HER NAME?"

"You're at the cabins?"

You nod.

"Then yeah, would've been her."

ARC:\SPEECH "WELL.
ARC:\SPEECH "OLIVE MENTIONED... SOMETHING ABOUT BEING THE CLOSEST THING TO A DOCTOR NEARBY."
ARC:\SPEECH "...I THINK I HIT MY HEAD PRETTY BAD."

"Don't look it, but I'll take your word for it."

ARC:\SPEECH "EITHER WAY, I'D LIKE TO CHECK IN WITH HER."

"Is it an emergency?"

ARC:\SPEECH "UH"





ARC:\SPEECH "I DON'T"





ARC:\SPEECH "THINK SO?"


They raise an eyebrow.

"Then you can wait 'til she opens the front desk in the morning.






...How'd you hit your head?"



ARC:\TR_TH *UH*

ARC:\SPEECH "FELL."
ARC:\SPEECH "...C... COMING OUT OF THE MUSEUM."
ARC:\SPEECH "HIT MY HEAD ON THE FOUNTAIN, I THINK. MUST HAVE."

"Must have?"

ARC:\SPEECH "JUST. YOU KNOW, SYMPTOMS. AND I DID FALL."
ARC:\SPEECH "...I'M NOT REALLY SURE WHAT ELSE COULD'VE HAPPENED."

"What symptoms?"

ARC:\SPEECH "I-"
ARC:\SPEECH "THEY'RE-"
ARC:\SPEECH "I'M NOT REALLY... SURE HOW TO DESCRIBE THEM. WELL."





The bartender looks you up and down.







That restlessness hits you hard.
Your claws are twitching.



ARC:\TR_TH *I NEED TO. LEAVE*
ARC:\TR_TH *I WANT TO LEAVE I WANT TO LEAVE*

You brace yourself on one of the barstools, feeling heat in your chest.

"...Tell you what:
I'm gonna stay in here another... half an hour.
If you change your mind and wanna call an ambulance--"

ARC:\SPEECH "NO! NO, I MEAN-"
ARC:\SPEECH "SORRY. I'M FINE! IS WHAT I-"
ARC:\SPEECH "LIKE, IT-"
ARC:\SPEECH "THERE- THE-"

"-Your facial expression hasn't changed since you came in,
and you're talkin' funny. Kinda monotone."

ARC:\TR_TH *I AM?! OH GOD*

"You could have a concussion.



So maybe take a sec and think about--"

ARC:\SPEECH "DIDN'T REALIZE! SORRY ABOUT THAT."

You start backing up towards the door.

ARC:\SPEECH "I THINK I'M JUST"
ARC:\SPEECH "VERY VERY TIRED. HAHA."
ARC:\SPEECH "I THINK AFTER SOME SLEEP I'LL SEE HOW I FEEL AND IF IT'S BAD I'LL TALK TO..."
ARC:\SPEECH " . . . "

"...Olive."

ARC:\SPEECH "OLIVE! I'LL TALK TO HER."
ARC:\SPEECH "THANK YOU SOMUCH 4YOURHELP AND SORRY FOR THE TROUBLE-"

"Hey--"

ARC:\SPEECH "HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!"



You accidentally slam your hip into the door as you hastily push through it,
ending up outside.




























Your claws reach up

holding the sides of your monitor head.







ARC:\TR_TH *IT ISNT REAL*
ARC:\TR_TH *IT ISNT REAL*

ARC:\TR_TH *GET A FUCKING GRIP ALREADY*


You smack the side of the monitor,
hearing the CLUNK every time.



It hurts.
And it all still feels real.

ARC:\TR_TH *WHY DO I STILL FEEL IT*

ARC:\TR_TH *WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME*









Nothing you try makes it go away.






A thorough look at yourself will probably help.
You can probably find a way to prove to yourself that it isn't real.
Then, it'll
hopefully go away?

If not, you can check in with the person in cabin #8.
If they were there, maybe they stumbled into what you did, too.

Maybe you were drugged?
That could be it.
You'd like to check regardless.









You walk back across the street,
not checking for cars this time.








The campfire catches your eye.




You spot someone sitting on a log next to it.






ARC:\TR_TH *NO WAY IN HELL IM TRYING UNNECESSARY SOCIAL CONTACT AGAIN*
ARC:\TR_TH *APPARENTLY MY FACE IS BARELY MOVING ANYMORE AND MY VOICE IS WEIRD*
ARC:\TR_TH *WEIRD/ER/ THAN BEFORE, AT LEAST*
ARC:\TR_TH *THE LESS I OPEN MY MOUTH THE BETTER*


You deliberately walk far to the south,
looping around the back of your cabin to make it to the front.

It looks like the person at the campfire is still there,
though you can only really see their silhouette.





ARC:\TR_TH *GOOD*

ARC:\TR_TH *ALMOST INSIDE*






You fish your key out of your pocket and jam it into the lock.











It's dark.











You miss, and drop your keys.




ARC:\TR_TH *AUGH*



You reach down to get them,
forgetting how large your head is now; it bangs into your door.





You end up sitting on your butt on the steps outside your door,
rubbing your somehow-sore monitor.













ARC:\TR_TH *FIGURES*



ARC:\TR_TH *KILL ME*












You scoop up your keys.


"Hoooooly shit.
Look at You."

ARC:\SPEECH "WHU H"


Your head swivels upward,
meeting the eyes of a corvice - some sort of insect morph - standing over you.

"Is that really Real?"

They reach out and tap your screen,
causing you to pull your head back.

"Oh my GOD, it is."



ARC:\SPEECH "YOU CAN SEE TH-"
ARC:\SPEECH "WHA T"

"You're like
buzzing.

You bust your head when you bumped it?
I'd fix you but I'm nnnot good with computers."

They lean in and squint at your screen.





ARC:\TR_TH *DONT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT*


ARC:\TR_TH *THERES NO WAY THEYRE SEEING IT*

ARC:\TR_TH *IT ISNT REAL*
ARC:\TR_TH *IT ISNT REAL*







Their face lights up.

"THAT'S how you talk now?

That's so Fucked."



The bug laughs -
a little too loudly -
and slumps down roughly onto the steps next to you.






They pull a bottle of cheap-looking alcohol from their pocket
and take a swig.


"Definitely
real, just between us.
You're lucky that's all you got."

They flop onto their back, laying across the steps.



"Welp!
Wasn't just me; thank fuck, honestly.

And hey
not just You! Either!
You got-"

They gesture to themself.

"-me!
This asshole!
Who's currently veeery, very drunk."

The bug laughs.

"Sorry 'bout that.
Not much else to do!
We're pretty screwed, so it's like..." They tip the bottle up. "-might as well."

[knux400]

"Wait, back up. You've been in the museum, too? What exhibit did you look at? What happened to you?"

If we can get some more information out of this person, go for it- but if they're too weird and creepy, just head back into your room.

[skinstealer]

ask if...they are usually a bug.

[skinstealer]

also check their neck

[Lilium Mortem]

Ask what cabin they're in and talk to them in the morning. The probability of getting straight answers is inversely proportional to how drunk they are. And you need to calm down and process things before hearing Omens Of Dire Import or whatever.

[MarxzVulpez]

Well, as they said
might as well talk
try and get as clear of an explanation out of em as you can, you've had a hell of a night so far but we can get through it. plus the sooner you get any sort of answers (even a start) the sooner you can get working towards fixing stuff, yeah?

[SHIVERS]

You're overwhelmed to say the least,
but the sooner you can get answers, the sooner this can all be over.
Hopefully they can give some info, drunk or not.

You can't stand being seen like This.




You try - unsuccessfully - to put that worry away.



Time to push through it.








ARC:\SPEECH "FROM THE WAY YOU'RE TALKING..."
ARC:\SPEECH "YOU WENT TO THE MUSEUM?"
ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT HAPPENED?"
ARC:\SPEECH "WERE YOU SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE THIS?"
ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT EXHIBIT DID YOU LOOK AT?"

The bug puts their claws up.

"Sloooow down.
I don't read that fast. Chill."

They stare into your screen, following the lines.



You feel uncomfortably vulnerable,
having someone stare directly Into your face.
You try to remain still regardless.



"Okay, yeah, I went there.
Weird shit happened, got turned into-



...y'know what I'm not gettin' into that.
Just know it was worse than yours, alright?

Bein' a computer's not so bad.



Besides, I changed back,
so it'd probably work for you, too."




You jerk forward, leaning in close.

ARC:\SPEECH "HOW DID YOU CHANGE BACK!"

The bug flinches.



"Easy, easy there."
They look genuinely nervous.
You pull back.

You probably look more intimidating like this than you realize.







You hate that feeling.



ARC:\SPEECH "...SORRY."

"I went back to the museum the uh...
think it was the morning after it happened."

ARC:\SPEECH "AND?"

"And





that's it!"
They shrug, laughing.

"I don't remember aaaaaaanything else at all,
sorry!
Just when I left, I was me again.
...Mostly.

Like 99.999999%, if I had to...

 


 . . . "


They squint up at nothing.




"...what's the word...?"









The bug hardly moves.











ARC:\SPEECH " . . . "



ARC:\SPEECH "IF WE COULD GET BACK TO--"

"Quantify."
They snap their claws.
"That's it."

They take another drink.



ARC:\SPEECH "...IF WE COULD GET BACK TO WHAT WE WERE TALKING ABOUT."

"Mhmn. Yeah."

ARC:\SPEECH "YOU DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT HOW YOU CHANGED BACK?"

"Nnope.
Went there
like
blacked out?
Came to.

Bam." They gesture their arms wide.
"Me again."










ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT EXHIBIT DID YOU LOOK AT?"

"Uhhmm... art?
Somethin'?
Something with art."

The bug stretches, laying back down on the steps.

ARC:\SPEECH "IT MIGHT HELP ME IF YOU TELL ME EVERYTHING."

"Don't rememberrrr."
Their head tilts back.

ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT ABOUT WHAT YOU TURNED INTO?"

"Nnope, none of That stuff."







ARC:\TR_TH *THIS WOULD BE MUCH EASIER IF THEY WEREN'T DRUNK.*

They shrug, speaking in response to your /thought./
"Tough's luck, bubp." The bug hiccups. "Uogh..."

ARC:\SPEECH "I REALLY HATE THAT YOU CAN SEE THOSE."

"How come?
What's 'TR...TH'?
How's it Different?"

ARC:\SPEECH " . . . "

"...Well, you got your secrets,
I got mine.

And I got..." They curl up on the steps.





"To gooooo to bed."

Their eyes close.




ARC:\SPEECH "WAIT, WAIT."

The bug looks up at you again, groaning.
"C'mon, I'm Tired."

ARC:\SPEECH "THESE ARE MY FRONT STEPS, YOU-"
ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT IF I DON'T GET TO TALK TO YOU AGAIN?"
ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS?"

"I won't explode, it's Fiiiine.
What're you all Worried about ME for, anyway?"

ARC:\SPEECH "I ONLY-"
ARC:\SPEECH "I DON'T-"











ARC:\TR_TH *DONT WANT TO BE BY MYSELF*






ARC:\TR_TH *AGAIN*



You try to push the visible thought down with more lines of text.

ARC:\SPEECH "DON'T"
ARC:\SPEECH "READ"
ARC:\SPEECH "T"
ARC:\SPEECH "H"
ARC:\SPEECH "A"
ARC:\SPEECH "T"
ARC:\SPEECH "."
ARC:\SPEECH "PLEASE."



"Read what?"
The corvice snickers quietly.




Your head hangs down.





They reach up to lightly pat your shoulder.

"Worrying tooooo much, c'mputer.
Gotta... quit that.
O-kay?"

They point at you,
before their arm goes limp on the steps.




You don't respond.





The corvice's eyes gradually begin to close.

















You rub the side of your head.






ARC:\SPEECH "...WHAT CABIN ARE YOU IN?"

"Leven." They yank a key out of their pocket, displaying it proudly,
for some reason.
A number '11' keychain dangles from it.
"The one in the waaaaay Back."










ARC:\SPEECH " . . . "



ARC:\SPEECH "IF YOU'RE BACK TO NORMAL,"

ARC:\SPEECH "THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU LEFT?"



The bug's yellow-green eyes are barely open.



"Couldn't.
...Screwed!

Screwed, liiike I... said.

You're welcome..."
They roll to their side, looking uncomfortable on the hard steps.
"...t'... try..."




ARC:\SPEECH "WHAT?"





ARC:\SPEECH "HEY..."





They stop moving entirely,
only the rise and fall of their breath is left.




Fast asleep.







ARC:\SPEECH " . . . "



































The night fills with quiet once more.
















Your claws hold your screen.





You wish you could breathe.

































Back to it.





You hesitantly tug the collar of their shirt down an inch or two,
just enough to inspect their neck.

No marks.

Nothing out of the ordinary.





ARC:\TR_TH *...WHAT NOW?*
ARC:\TR_TH *ITS TOO COLD TO LEAVE THEM OUTSIDE*


You spot the cabin key.
Still in their claw.


After retrieving it,
you stand and reach your arms under their back and legs,
trying to lift them.






You can't even get them fully off the steps before your limbs crackle,
sparks flying.

You nearly drop them as your power flickers.






ARC:\TR_TH *BAD IDEA BAD IDEA*
ARC:\TR_TH *BAD IDEA BAD IDEA*







ARC:\TR_TH *THEN*



ARC:\TR_TH *ONLY ONE OTHER OPTION*


Reluctantly, you open your door.





This time, being as careful as possible,
you put your claws under their shoulders.

You manage to drag them inside without your power cutting out.


You push the door shut with your foot once they're in.





You feel particularly drained, in a way you've never felt before.

It's a wispy, faint feeling.
You don't like it.





You toss the bed's thick comforter onto the floor and drag the bug onto it,
putting an extra pillow under their head for good measure.
You place their key next to their head, hoping they'll find it when they wake up.









ARC:\TR_TH *...ONE LAST THING*



You ignore the fading feeling and make your way into the joint restroom.

You make absolutely sure to lock both doors,
including the one your neighbor would use to get in.









A sense of dread fills you as you approach the mirror.


You
examine yourself.




Your head is the same as it was before.
Blue screen, visible lines of text, wood paneling, knobs on the front.
Normal computer monitor.
Normal head.

ARC:\TR_TH *NORMAL, NORMAL, NORMAL*
ARC:\TR_TH *ALL NORMAL*
ARC:\TR_TH *VERY NORMAL. 'NORMAL.' YES. SURE*

At your neck, you notice a few buttons.
It's difficult to see them properly in the old mirror,
but you think one reads 'KB' and one reads 'CS'.

ARC:\TR_TH *NEVER TOUCHING THOSE.*



You turn to the side.

Your clothes are now noticeably baggy.
There must not be much to you under-



Something moves.


You swivel in surprise.

It moves with you.









You look behind you.






You still have a tail.
A new one.


It's a long, thick power cord, by the looks of it,
and it seems to be moving about of its own accord; weakly lashing side-to-side on occasion.

It moves a little more like a feline tail than your old one did.

You don't know if this is better or worse than not having one at all.




You grab it.

You can Feel it.
Just as your claws and head also have a sense of touch.

You can't fathom why,
but you're grateful for it.
You don't want to think about being fully numb.




As you let go of your tail, your eyes follow downwards.

Firstly: You aren't wearing shoes anymore.
You don't have a clue what happened to them.

Secondly: Your paws are gone,
replaced by simplistic-looking, three-pronged metal claws.
Two claws are pointed forward, while the back one almost serves as a heel.
They'd look a little like avian talons if they weren't so... squared.
Not to mention, you have no range of motion in the claws themselves,
only the heel.

You pull your pant-leg up, finding a ball joint there.



Rolling up your sleeve, you find similar along your simplistic mechanical arm.

ARC:\TR_TH *AT LEAST MY FINGERS HAVE SOME MOTION TO THEM.*


You wish they weren't hard plastic, though.
You're worried they may be brittle.







You find yourself unable to stall any longer.

ARC:\TR_TH *MOMENT OF TRUTH*







You



lift your shirt up,
looking at your torso.








It's about what you were expecting.

A mix of hard plastic and metal in a boxy format,
with the two bulkiest points being where your upper torso had been -
which looks to be the 'computer' portion of your body,
looking most like the TOLA from before -
and your 'hips', which are now a rather large set of several metal joints in a hard plastic shell.

Connecting the two points, a thick, clear plastic tube surrounds several cords in various colors, and a length of metal with many interlocking joints,
dull spikes protruding from each one; very much resembling a spine,
unnervingly.

All in all, you surmise that your new chest and spine are likely to be particularly vulnerable, along with your screen.
Not too much has changed, then.






Though, a thought is nagging you



one you can't seem to put away.





Namely, that:

There's no room to fit you - the Real you, your body -
in this one.
Not anywhere.





It isn't a suit.






















You let your shirt fall back into place.

You don't want to look anymore.







You unlock both doors, hurrying back to your cabin.
Once there, you toss off your jacket and slip your pajamas on.

The stranger is still sound asleep.



ARC:\TR_TH *...NONE OF THE BODY THINGS MATTER.*

ARC:\TR_TH *LIKE THEY SAID. ILL GET IT BACK*
ARC:\TR_TH *ITLL BE FINE*





That wispy feeling is stronger than ever.
You hardly feel present at all.





You flick the light off,
annoyed at just how bright your blue screen is in the dark room.

You crawl into bed,
feeling physically out-of-place Immediately upon lying against the bed.
The blankets catch on your body many times before you succeed in pulling them over you.

You can't properly care.







You're in bed.







ARC:\TR_TH * . . . *
ARC:\TR_TH *...HOW DO I SLEEP*


ARC:\TR_TH *DO I SLEEP...?*


You barely get the thought out.


TOLA:\SYS [REST MODE: ON]

TOLA:\SYS [GOOD NIGHT !]





Your screen flicks off.



Lights out.





















































 

⛌ DAY TWO ⛌

TOLA:\SYS [REST MODE: OFF]

 

▶ Logo Rhythmic IV
Reginald J. Lewis

TOLA:\SYS [GOOD MORNING !]



ARC:\


You start up.







You move your body,
only to find it stuck on something.


Your head turns,
finding that


your tail is plugged into the outlet by the wall.









You yank it out,
feeling an odd tingling sensation shoot through you as a result.
It lasts only a second or two.

You shake it off.






ARC:\TR_TH *NOT A DREAM*








ARC:\TR_TH *STELLAR.*












You check the time,
finding a sticky note on the alarm clock in the process.

You peel it off and read it.

my bad for last night
thanks for setting me up
I'm in cabin 11 if you want
to actually talk today.
also stuff got dropped in
your mailbox. prob coupons
   - Mikki



You set the note aside.

The time is     9:49 AM




You pull yourself out of bed and open your mailbox,
retrieving everything inside.

There's quite a haul this time:

Two free meal tickets to Bo's Bar & Restaurant.
Three 'Gimme Points' coupons, assumedly for the mini mart.
Four gold coins; arcade tokens, probably.
And, of course, one free ticket to the Whipsaw Oddity Museum.


















Options.

The front desk, museum, pool, and mini mart are all open,
while the bar doesn't open until Noon, and the arcade isn't open until 2PM.



'Mikki' mentioned that going back to the museum,
specifically the morning after being changed, is what turned them back.
You're reluctant to go back at all after what happened,
but it'd be worth it to change back and get this over with.
That is, if you can trust what they said while drunk and half asleep.

You could go talk with them in cabin #11.
They are the only solid resource for information that you've found, so far.
Though,
you hadn't had the chance to talk to the person in cabin #8 yet.
Either one could be a good option.

You had the thought before to talk to Olive at the front desk,
seeing as she did say she was, sort of, a doctor.
...You have no idea how much medical training would help right now, though,
and she might not be able to see you as This, anyway.

The mini mart is open.
You have those points, whatever they are.
That
is an option?
Maybe if you run out of others, first.

Just the same, the pool is still open.
You still doubt Computer and Water will mix well.



You could also
try for your car.
It's still in the parking lot across the street, assuming nothing happened to it.
Mikki said they weren't able to leave, but you don't really know Why,
and don't know that that would happen to You.
It might be worth not risking the museum again, and simply cutting your losses.
You could probably find someone elsewhere that could figure out whatever turned you into this.

Maybe?
You don't know.
It's an option.





Part of you is hesitant to leave the cabin at all, though.
Knowing it's highly likely that at least someone is going to see you this way.

Technically, you could simply wait until it's dark again.
Less people,
less eyes.

That's a lot of daylight to waste, though.








Too many options.
Your processor's running too fast.

[skinstealer]

cabin 11, it's the closest you have to answers. high plug tail it over ASAP

[MarxzVulpez]

Yeah, go see Mikki
Also
It's maybe scary to consider but is there anything you Do like more about your new form? Just thoughts...

[Lilium Mortem]

Don't forget to grab your phone, even if you get your body back you've still been through something traumatic and you should talk to your therapist. But first try to see what you can learn from Mikki, then talk to your therapist, *then* go to the mesuem to see if you can get your body back.

[knux400]

Talk to Mikki before anything else, they're the best source of information you have right now.

Also worth noting that your plug tail is probably what you do instead of eating, now. See if you can find a battery indicator or a power level function anywhere. Maybe just "think" a command and it'll come up?

[SHIVERS]

Mikki is probably your best source of info right now.

You want to head over ASAP.





First, though...

Considering how you felt after being up and about for so long,
and that your tail plugged itself into the wall overnight,
that's probably how you 'eat' now.

You need to charge yourself regularly, or likely at least when you start feeling drained like before.



You try to figure out a way to show a battery indicator or similar function to yourself,
but nothing you Think or 'Speak' seems to have any effect.

Maybe someone around knows computers well.







You

find yourself thinking about that.

REALLY thinking about it.




You're a computer.
You Are just a machine now.




You know you need to change back,
but

you try to parse if there's anything you like about this body.

Better to try and think positively for now, right?






















No.
No. Nope.
You are not going to think about that.

You aren't.

You need to change back.
This body is temporary and inconvenient,
and the fact that the facial expressions of your REAL body are all screwed up
when people can't see This body is-

You can't stand that.



You've put a lot of time and effort into doing your best to Not Stand Out,
and now, whether people see this body or your old one,
you stick out like a sore thumb.





You hate it.




You're getting rid of this.
You know How.
And then it'll be over.

Back to normal.


















Realizing that you really are not feeling well -
not that you ever Could, stuck like this -
you think about calling your therapist.




You think that through a little more.

You'd have to go to the bar or the front desk,
and stand there having a very personal conversation where anyone could hear you.
That's if your therapist Could even hear you.

The bartender could, but Mikki can't.
They have to look at your screen.
It'd be a gamble, and if you get it wrong all you'd do is worry your therapist.

Either way, it'd be a spectacle.
If anything would be a surefire way to Actually make you fall apart,
it'd be That.

You aren't going to do that.

Not right now.






You should at least grab your phone, though.

You quickly locate it in your cabin;
somehow it ended up under one of the pillows on your bed.

You pull it out and press the button to turn the screen on.



It's nearly dead, with 3% battery life.

Annoying, but it's-





You can't unlock it.





You swipe
and swipe
and swipe

nothing happens.




You remember the same happening when you wore gloves.

The touch sensors likely don't work with your hard plastic claws.





You'd need someone else's help to even unlock your phone to find Any of your contacts' info.

And with it nearly dead-




You plug it into its charger and leave it at that for now.



After a quick change of clothes,
you don your jacket, pocket the various coupons,
and head out the door.


























 

▶ Observe
Pasocom Music Club

It's a bright, beautiful day outside,
and you

are a standing, walking computer

person

thing.




This is already weird.
















At least it's nice out here.











You wish you could think about that
more than all the worries sifting around in your head.





Is there even anything IN your head, anymore?
That's the monitor.
No data's stored in those, it's probably elsewhere.




Your head is Literally empty.














You pass by cabins 7 and 8, thankful that nobody's sitting around the unlit campfire as you walk by it.

You do see that the pool is a bit lively today, spotting a few people walking in.
Good thing you aren't headed that way.

Mostly, you're just glad nobody's out and about by the cabins at the moment.

You hurry your way over to cabin 11 just in case.














When you reach it, you find it to be quite a lot smaller than your own.
You knock a few times.




You hear a muffled groan from inside.
"...just leave th' coupons in the mailbox."

With no real way to audibly speak,
you knock again. Gently.
Tapping out a small rhythm, hoping it would signal that this is more casual.




You hear nothing.







Someone exits their cabin relatively nearby.
You don't dare to look.


ARC:\TR_TH *COME ON MIKKI*
ARC:\TR_TH *PLEASEPLEASE ANSWER*





You knock a little faster.

"...god in-
Ugh."





You hear rummaging noises through the door as your foot taps nervously,
only for it to finally open.

A bleary-eyed bug answers the door,
leaning on the doorframe.


ARC:\SPEECH "HELP."

It's all you can think to say.





They sigh.





"Well.
Fuck."
The corvice massages their temple.
"Look.
When I said we could talk, I figured, y'know, I'd get to sleep.
Slept like shit on your floor and woke up with a hangover,
which I was tryin' to sleep off.
So we'll talk some later, alright?"

ARC:\SPEECH "BUT- OH. SORRY."
ARC:\SPEECH "I CAN- I'LL-"

You feel anxiety grasping at your circuits.





Mikki is reading your screen.

Including what had popped up before the door opened.



ARC:\SPEECH "OH, DON'T WORRY ABOUT THAT. SORRY"
ARC:\SPEECH "I CAN'T HELP IT. IT JUST POPS UP."




Their head tilts skyward, a long sigh rolling out of them.



"Alright.
Here's the deal:

We can talk Now
if you come with me to the corner store across the street.
I need more smokes and somethin' to kill this hangover.

If you don't wanna do that, I get back in bed."


ARC:\SPEECH "THERE-"
ARC:\SPEECH "THERE MIGHT BE PEOPLE THERE, THOUGH."

They shrug. "So?
There's gonna be people around sometimes.
Who cares?
It'll probably just look like a weird costume if they can even see it."

ARC:\SPEECH "I DON'T WANT TO LOOK WEIRD!"

Not sure how your text will read,
you force yourself to speak more calmly.

ARC:\SPEECH "I MEAN I'D. REALLY, REALLY RATHER NOT-"




"Then we talk later after I sleep.
Those're your options."



















Options.


Go with Mikki to the mini mart,
or be alone for longer-








ARC:\SPEECH "OKAY. YES. LET'S GO. SORRY."

"You're good, chill."



You watch the bug slip on some shoes, feeling profoundly stupid.
They step out the door with you,
not bothering to lock it.













They walk fast; you pick up the pace to keep up.

"Alright, we're walking,
go ahead."




ARC:\SPEECH "I DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S... HOW THIS..."


Mikki hears you buzzing.
They stop just beyond the cabins, by the road.


"...right. Hell."
The corvice turns back to you.
"Alright.
You ask or say everything you're wantin' to say to me, right now.
I'll answer on the walk over.
Sound good?

Okay

Go."






Mikki watches your screen, looking antsy.

ARC:\SPEECH "UM..."

[knux400]

"I think it would be best if you just... went over everything that happened to you while you were at the museum, start to finish. Which exhibit you went to, what it did, how you dealt with it after, and most importantly, how you got rid of it when you went back in the second time. I, uh. Really don't want to be stuck like this any longer than I have to."

"In the meantime, though, I don't suppose you know anyone who's good with old computers? An IT person, maybe? I'm having some trouble figuring things out in here."

When Mikki starts smoking, try to smell the smoke. I'm assuming that since you can't breathe, you also can't smell, but cigarette smoke is pretty awful anyway, so maybe that's a bit of a comfort here.

As for your phone, see if they have those little pen styluses at the mini mart. It's a bit of a long shot, but being able to actually use your phone would count for a lot here.

[Lilium Mortem]

Last night you said you *mostly* turned back to normal. what didn't change?
last night you aslso said we were fucked. *why* are we fucked?
Why haven't you left?
What's the deal with the museum?
What's the deal with the 'town'?
Is there any way to call my therapist that won't make a scene and also can you unlock my phone for me I can't work a touchscreen like this